When she woke up it was morning, and Phil, tousled hair on all—but probably not any more tousled than hers was—was staked out in his armchair, in ...is underwear, with a blanket haphazardly half covering him. He woke as, startled awake, she sat up on the edge of the bed. The movement had been too rapid, though, and she’d had too many beers the night before, so she let out a moan and had to sit there, waiting for the room to come into focus. ‘I didn’t. You didn’t. We didn’t . . .’ she mumbled at. Tonight is about going past those limits. He takes the key to the handcuffs from around her neck. He removes them and pulls her to her feet. She sways, unsteady with the sudden movement. He holds her against him for only a moment, knowing that the clamps are rubbing against his shirt. Her moans never really stop but are so muffled he can allow her that. He whispers in her ear, "Tonight you will learn the true meaning of submitting to me." He lightly grazes his tongue on her ear and she almost. More

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